Jioni’s laughter was nervous; any vigor left in her eyes drained. She lifted her sleeve to reveal her arm: cracked and now had since stopped throbbing. It was now wholly gray, permanently altering her skin color. She put the sleeve down and then moved her braids. She showed him her cracked face and missing ear.
Derrin appeared to hide his repulsion, but his body signaled discomfort.
“It’ll be fine, don’t freak out,” Derrin said. “Okay. So. You can’t be an Agent now, who cares.” He paused. “Are you in any pain—”
“I may be able to hide it.”
“Jioni.”
“If I wear this flannel and take the test.”
“Jioni…”
“And, uh, maybe get my ID card back from LaMesha. Then–”
“LaMesha?” Derrin exclaimed. He shook his head. “If LaMesha is involved, I think we both know it’s way too late.”
Jioni chuckled again, but in her tone, she had difficulty breathing. She knew Derrin came swinging down with the hammer of reality, but she refused to let the hopelessness set in. Internally, she fought every emotion, prompting her to throw in the towel. Jioni shook, unaware whether it was because of the cold or nervousness, but despite this, she knew she had a way.
